June Evening at Beaconsfield (Bucks)

Like a trail of smoke from the sunset's flameA long, frail wisp of cloud hung in the sky;The west still glowed--the colour, loth to die,Faded so slowly, and as slowly cameThe grey of twilight, long ere it could claimA conquest o'er the golden light on high,Which yielded, paling; lastly with a sighIt sank in grey enveloped--just as FameSinks and is covered by the years that creep.Dimmer and dimmer grew the ev'ning light;Among the corn the poppies drowsed asleep,The milky campions glimmered softly white,The friendly elms a vigil calm did keep--Guardians watching through the darkling night.